


He Ain't Heavy

by WinJennster



Series: Painted Angels 'verse [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, F/M, Head Injury, Homophobia, Hospitalization, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:46:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinJennster/pseuds/WinJennster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events of John's attack on Dean, as seen from Sam's eyes, and the days that followed. </p><p>(prequel to Painted Angels)</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Ain't Heavy

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after the last piece written in the past. This is Sam's POV of what John did to Dean and how he survived the days after.

There were things that made Sam Winchester a pretty happy guy - dates with Sarah, movie and pizza nights with Dean and Cas, kicking Jo’s ass at Monopoly, and sitting on the hood of the Impala, watching as Dean danced around the scaffold slapping paint on canvases twice as tall as he was. 

He loved truly good salads and watching Ravens games with their Remington family, and he’d really enjoyed spending the summer at Ocean City. He loved Hopkins, and his professors, and walking around the school with Sarah holding his hand. He loved the new friends he was making, and he enjoyed working for Bobby and Ellen. He loved taking home a decent paycheck, and being able to throw Dean some money for groceries. 

Sam had a pretty great life, overall. 

Things he didn’t enjoy? Only one thing in particular, actually - his father’s penchant for showing up unannounced and upending the whole apple cart that was his and Dean’s good life. 

A few well placed words from a drunk old man, and his brother was questioning his entire existence. Sam completely blamed John for the current situation, the one that had caused Dean to cheat on Cas, who Sam believed was the love of his brother’s life. 

At least Dean had seen the light, and they could try and fix things now. First, they had to find Cas. 

Sam sighed as he hefted the dish tray and carried it to the back of the Roadhouse. 

“What’s got you blue, kiddo?” Bobby asked, as Sam started loading the dishwasher. 

“Dean.”

“Ah. Say no more.”

“I blame Dad more, though, to be honest. I swear, he knows just what to say to completely unhinge Dean. It’s ridiculous.” Sam shut the dishwasher and turned it on. “I just wish Dean could see how totally full of shit Dad is.”

“Dean’s a good boy. Don’t deserve an idjit like John for a father, that’s for damn sure. Neither do you, for that matter.”

Sam nodded as he scooped up the dish tray. “No kidding.” He used his ass to push the kitchen door open, heading back out into the dining room. 

Benny was just pushing through the front door, and he headed right for his usual table. 

“Need a menu?” Sam asked, as he passed by. 

“Nope. Rusty old truck with West Virginia plates sittin’ out front the firehouse - that your Dad?”

Sam froze, the dish tray slipping from his fingers. He was out the door a moment later, tearing up the ground between the Roadhouse and the firehouse in long-legged strides, never even stopping to check for traffic as he bolted across 30th, his heart pounding from more than the exertion of the run. 

He burst through the open doors of the firehouse as Dean was walking towards them and his father - John picked up a 2X4 and swung it, and all Sam could do was scream his brother’s name and watch helplessly as the board connected with Dean’s head. 

His brother’s eyes widened in shock, his knees buckling, and Dean fell face first to the concrete floor of the firehouse.

“No, no, no!” Sam screamed, darting across the floor to where Dean was lying. He very carefully rolled Dean to his back, making sure his head was supported during the move. Dean’s nose was bleeding, and there was a slow trickle of blood and clear fluid dripping from his right ear. 

“Oh, Dean, dude, it’s going to be ok, I swear, you hear me? It’s going to be ok.”

Dean’s eyes were wide, but unfocused, the pupil in the right already blown. 

_ Concussion _ , Sam thought,  _ not good _ . Dean’s fingers clawed weakly at Sam’s shoulders, trying to get a grip, to pull himself into a seated position, Sam wasn’t sure. His eyes were losing focus quickly. His lips were moving like he was trying to tell Sam something, but couldn’t get sound out of his throat. 

He was scared. Even fading as fast as he was, Dean was aware enough to be terrified. 

“It’s going to be ok, I promise. It’s going to be ok,” Sam said over and over, doing his best to fight back the rising panic in his chest and the sick feeling that he was watching his brother die. “Gotta hold on, just hold on.”

Dean’s eyes focused on something just behind Sam, and he turned to see Benny hook an arm around John and bring him to the ground. Then Ellen was there, gently pressing a damp towel to the gash on Dean’s head. 

“Ambulance is coming, sweetie,” she told Dean soothingly. “You just keep those pretty green eyes open for me. Just keep them open. Hold his hand, Sam. We’ve got to keep him calm.”

Sam nodded, reaching for Dean’s hand. The skin at his knuckles was split. Looking over at his father, Sam was pleased to see blood on John’s face. Looked like Dean had gotten at least one good hit in.

A crowd had gathered at the firehouse doors, but Sam was relieved to see Tessa and Pamela working to close the one set of doors, while Ash and Andy stood guard at the other set, waiting for the ambulance. 

He could hear sirens now, growing closer every second. “They’re coming. Can you hear them? They’re gonna help you and you’re gonna be fine.”

Dean was blinking slowly, staring blankly at the ceiling. He didn’t seem to be aware of Sam’s or Ellen’s presence anymore. He was humming something in the back of his throat, and at first, Sam thought it was just random sounds. Dean lost consciousness just as the paramedics arrived, and John was still screaming epithets as they worked on him. 

Dean was so still. 

It wasn’t until they closed the ambulance doors behind his unconscious brother that Sam realized what Dean had been humming, and he didn’t think it was possible, but his heart broke a little bit more. Even in those last few moments, Cas had been right at the forefront of his brother’s thoughts. 

Dean had been humming _ In My Life.  _

“Please, God, please let him live,” Sam whispered softly, watching as the ambulance pulled away from the curb. 

Two cops led an angry John past him and it took everything Sam had to not attack his father, something Bobby must’ve realized, with the warning hand he put on Sam’s shoulder. 

“If he dies,” Sam growled, “I will never, ever forgive you. I hope you fucking rot.”

John looked at Sam, his eyes bloodshot. “He’s an abomination, disgusting. He’s not my son.”

Benny got with the program real quick, reaching out to grab Sam’s other arm as he saw red and surged forward. “Down, boy. Ain’t gonna help no one. Let the cops do their job.”

Fury shook his body as the cops dragged John out the door - and then it was like someone snipped the strings that had been holding him up and Sam sunk to his knees. He didn’t even realize how hard he was crying until Ellen cupped his chin in her hand and wiped the tears from his face. 

“I know it’s hard, sweetie. But you’ve gotta be strong. Dean needs you. Think of all the times he’s looked after you. It’s your turn now.”

Sam shuddered. “Ok,” he whispered. “Ok. Take me to the hospital? I don’t think I can drive.”

“Of course.”

* * *

 

It was nearly dawn before a doctor told them Dean was as stable as they could get him - which wasn’t very stable at all. 

“We’ve had to open his head twice now to drain fluid, and he went into cardiac arrest several times during surgery. We’re doing everything we can, but you have to realize - his chances aren’t good. You have to be prepared.”

Sam sunk into a chair, absolutely drained. 

“Should we try to find Cas?” Jo asked. 

Everyone turned to look at Sam. 

“I don’t know. Wait and see? I don’t - I don’t know.”

* * *

 

Wires and tubes covered his brother’s still, pale form. Dean lay motionless in a bed in Hopkin’s ICU, his head wrapped in miles of white gauze. 

Just one of those things, the doctor had said. A perfect hit, in just the right place on his skull to cause the maximum amount of damage. 

If Dean survived, he’d likely never be the same. He might never talk again. He might not be able to walk, or even feed himself. He’d likely have to be in some type of nursing care for the rest of his life. 

A week passed, and Sam rarely left the hospital. Sarah brought him dinner and his assignments almost every night. 

On day nine, Dean spiked a 103.7 fever. The unknown infection caused his limbs to shake and sweat to soak his body. 

This is it, the doctors told Sam. 

He stayed up all night, holding Dean’s hand and begging him to live. By morning, the fever had miraculously broken, and Sam allowed Ellen and Bobby to take him home for a shower and a solid night’s sleep. 

On day fifteen, Dean developed pneumonia. Over the course of the next few days, it steadily worsened, and his O2 stats dropped into crisis level. Once again, Sam sat at his bedside, told by the doctors that it was the end, and all they could do was keep Dean comfortable. 

Once again, Dean defeated the odds - the antibiotics took hold and pushed the disease from his lungs. 

On day twenty-two, Gabriel Novak found them.

“Sam? Holy shit, what happened?”

“Gabe?” Sam looked up in surprise. 

“I was visiting my friend’s mom down the hall -” he stepped into the room, staring down at Dean’s prone form in horror. “What the hell happened to him?”

“My dad,” Sam said softly. “Hit him in the head with 2X4.”

“Holy shit,” Gabe said again. “Does Cas know?”

“I don’t know where he is. Dean and I, we were going to try and find him, and then this happened and -” Sam burst into tears. He just couldn’t help it. “I just broke up with Sarah, because she deserves more than this bullshit. My grades are non-existent and everything is just falling apart and I - I should try to find Cas, he should know - but I just have so much on my plate right now -”

At some point, Gabe had crossed the room and wrapped Sam in his arms. He kissed the top of his head and squeezed him tight. “Alright kiddo. It’s going to be ok. I’m going to help any way I can, alright?”

“He keeps trying to die on me!” Sam wailed. 

“No, he’s not going to die. He knows you need him.”

“No, he’s got another infection. This is the third time in three weeks they’ve told me he’s going to die and I can’t - I can’t keep doing this. I’m so tired, Gabe. I’m so tired.”

“Where is everyone else? Bobby, Ellen, Benny? Why are you here all alone?”

“They come often but I never leave, ‘cause I can’t. I can’t leave him. If he goes -” Sam shuddered. “I need to be here.”

“Ok. I understand. But Dean wouldn’t want you to not take care of yourself. You know how pissed he’d get if he knew you were doing that?”

“Yeah - but -”

“No buts. We’re going to leave. Dinner and back to the firehouse for a good shower and a good night’s sleep.”

“I can’t leave him.”

“You can. You need to. You look like hell. And here’s the deal. You tell the nurses I’m family, and after I get you home and taken care of, I’ll sit with him all night. Ok?”

“You’d really do that? After everything?”

“Listen, I’m not happy about what went down between him and Cas. And yeah, I’m kinda mad at the asshat, but that doesn’t mean I want him to suffer or die or anything. Besides,” Gabe pushed a strand of hair out of Sam’s face. “I care about you.”

Sam looked over at Dean, still and motionless as ever. “Ok,” he said quietly. 

* * *

 

On day forty-six, Dean opened his eyes and stared up at his brother. 

Sam dropped his cup of coffee and screamed for the nurse. 

* * *

 

On day sixty-seven, John Winchester pled guilty to all the charges against him and accepted his sentence. There was no plea bargain, no lenience. Bobby told Sam he’d seemed relieved by the long sentence. 

* * *

 

On day one hundred eighteen, Dean told Sam in no uncertain terms to stop looking for Cas. 

  
  



End file.
